Dancing with Death
by Charlotte April
Summary: Seventeen year old Angela Edwards lives a good life. That is, until her Mother's numerous affairs are revealed and she abruptly joins her Father in moving back to sleepy Woodsboro, California - where she spent the first eight years of her life. The fall of senior year holds many life changing promises for Angela's future, but she never could have pictured it this way.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: My first Scream fic... hope you all enjoy! :) I'm sorry if it starts off a bit slow - promise it'll get much better! Let me know what you guys think xo

The lovely **Madchen Amick** _as_ **Angela Edwards**

* * *

Nine years. It'd been nine years since Angela had stepped foot in Woodsboro, California. Of what little she was able to recall and piece together, growing up here had been pleasant enough. It was a peaceful suburb, the kind of place where families thrived. Yet in comparison to the bustling life in San Francisco she'd grown accustomed to, this place was a total drag. She'd known that from the time she completed her registration forms in the office.

Angela Edwards pulled into the parking lot of Woodsboro High School, her deep maroon convertible catching the eyes of the students. There weren't too many students at this school, so a new flashy car and student was quite the spectacle. Wheeling into her assigned parking lot, she sucked in a small breath. Stepping out in a long sleeved white crop top with black lips on it and a ruffled bottom paired with a bright red, high wasted red corduroy skirt and black knee high boots, she deemed herself ready.

Slamming the door behind her, she gave her wavy brunette locks a quick adjustment before making her way into the crowds of people. Angela thanked herself immediately. The students' eyes glued to her, tracking her every move into the door and down the hallways. These people were actually ogling her. Switching here in the middle of the fall was definitely interesting, but were they honestly this shocked?

Algebra had never been synonymous with appealing until now. Sinking into a cool metal seat in the back of the classroom, she snuck a peek at the rest of the room before a boy with brown hair turned over his shoulder from where he stood at the teacher's desk, engaged in a conversation with some other students. He looked oddly familiar, threading through the room to take one of the empty seats beside her.

"Uh, Angela?"

"Yeah?" She lifted her head, scrutinizing his face and thin frame.

"Randy! We used to play together as kids. You know, like, seesaw and tag and-"

"Randy Meeks!"

Randy had been Angela's good friend through childhood. Her parents' old house was a five minute bike ride from his gravel driveway, and she vaguely remembered him as a little boy with floppy brown hair. Grinning back at her, he nodded. A wave of relief washed over her. It was so nice to have a friendly face here, especially Randy.

"I gotta wonder, what the hell are you doing back here? Last I heard, your parents opened up a big real estate law office in San Fran."

"Yeah, well, my Mom cheated on my Dad. A lot. They split up, and my Dad came back to Woodsboro. I couldn't let him go alone."

"Ouch, I'm really sorry." He grimaced. "How've you been otherwise the whole scandal thing?"

"Great." Angela forced a smile, twirling a pen cap in her red fingernails. "How about you?"

"Fantastic." He paused. "Sort of."

She laughed at this. "I miss the city."

"I bet. I would too, Woodsboro's fucked."

"Fucked?" She tilted her head.

Randy lowered his voice, glancing around the room to ensure no one was listening. "You didn't hear about Sidney Prescott's Mom?"

"Um, no." Angela shook her head softly. Sidney Prescott. The name was awfully familiar, but she couldn't muster up the face to match it. Randy's eyes grew wide at this. "I'm not really big on the news."

"Her Mother was brutally killed. And raped. Almost a year ago, right in Sid's house."

"Oh, shit."

"Cotton Weary was convicted, but..."

"But what?"

Angela breathed. People were killed all the time in San Francisco, but in such a small town like Woodsboro, a murderous civilian was much more concerning. A thousand questions whirred through her mind, but she couldn't speak in time to voice any before the teacher rose to his feet and began today's lesson.

The rest of class passed by slowly, with the teacher droning on about things Angela had already learned. She would've struck up conversation with Randy, but he seemed intent on the lesson, his eyebrows knitting at times. She managed to catch him sneaking looks at her at one point. Flattered, Angela gave him a tiny smile, but he quickly jerked his head back in the direction of Mr. Keenan.

When the ball finally gave a shrill ring, everyone stood up and took their turns surveying Angela on their way out the door. Per Randy's request, she hung back to wait for him. Steve Orth nudged one of his football buddies in the arm of his varsity letterman jacket, giving her a sly smile. "Hey, Edwards."

"Hi." She smiled back coyly.

Randy scowled, gathering his books together. "Animals."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, those dicks are animals. They've got pig written all over them. Steve's dating Casey Becker, anyway."

"I was being nice, Randy." Angela laughed.

"Well, I'd like you to meet some of my friends."

They made their way down the hallways a little to where a small group of people were huddled around a locker, Randy shoving his books into his backpack. Clearing his throat, he held out two hands in the direction of Angela to the gathering, presenting her to them. The four of them immediately stopped speaking, their conversation dying off in place of wonder, eyes darting between the two of them.

"Angela Edwards is back, everyone."

She held up a hand, offering them a warm smile. There were two girls, a platinum blonde with a stylish pair of bright red pants on and the other a brunette with her hair swept behind her bangs, wearing a patterned tee and jeans. The other two were guys - the tall blonde had his arms wrapped around the other blonde, his lips pulled into a wide grin. The other was a bit shorter, with long, parted brown hair.

"Super cute outfit." The blonde girl beamed. "I'm Tatum, and this is my boyfriend, Stu."

He wiggled his fingers at Angela. "Hey, Angie."

"The local idiot, if you will." Randy explained.

As Tatum hissed something to him to behave, the brunette girl stepped forward with a warm smile. She seemed friendly, almost understanding. "I'm Sidney."

Angela held her tongue. So, this was Sidney Prescott. She returned Sidney's smile, realizing she must've seemed rude. "Nice to meet you."

"Wow, you're so... pretty." Sidney spoke what was on everyone's mind.

Angela batted her blue eyes. "Oh, come on! So are you."

"I think we used to be friends. My Mom and your's knew each other, or something."

"Really?"

Before Angela had a chance to speak about Mrs. Prescott, Sidney nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ivory ear, returning to the quiet boy whose hand had been intertwined in her own moments before. His dark eyes bored into Angela's own big blues. Fixated.

"I'm Billy Loomis."

"Hey." Angela's voice grew quieter, never breaking eye contact.

"So, how do you unfortunately know Randy?" Stu broke her focus. "What, did he make a move on you?"

"We used to be really good friends as kids, and he was in my math class."

"Watch it, Stu." Randy grimaced.

"I'm shaking!" He cried obnoxiously.

"Where are you from, again?" Billy abruptly asked.

Angela shifted in her black boots, well aware of her movement under his gaze. "Well, here. My parents moved to San Francisco when I was eight to start a law practice. Then my Dad decided to come back because my Mom was cheating on him."

"Good for him." Tatum shook her head.

"Yeah, well. My Mother totally abandoned us. It's for the best."

"Rough."

Billy lifted his chin abruptly at this. Angela wasn't the only one to notice this, as Sidney promptly gave him a peck on the cheek.

"What're you doing tonight?" Sidney asked her.

"She's coming to the video store." Randy spoke up. Angela shrugged her shoulders. She didn't really have a preference in what she was doing tonight. As long as she didn't have to go home to that huge, barren house while her Father was at work, she didn't mind.

Stu scrunched up his nose. "Why?"

"Because she wants to hang out with me, stupid."

Tatum sighed. "You just don't quit, doofus."

"Why the video store?" Angela tilted her head.

Randy stared at Stu, bracing for another of his snarky comments or mocks. "It's where I work."

"One of Woodsboro's only attractions." Stu remarked, planting kisses on Tatum's neck.

"You should definitely sit with us at lunch." Sidney ignored them, giving her a warm smile.

Billy stood upright, digging a cigarette out of the pocket of his jeans. Lighting it with one quick motion, he gave her a half smile. "Welcome back to Woodsboro."


	2. Chapter 2

Her first day at school had overall been quite the success, contrary to her expectations of the day. Reuniting with Randy had been great. Befriending the small group he hung out and later eating lunch with them on the school's lush lawn was a bonus, as well. She enjoyed listening to them converse and quip about all sorts of things. She sailed through her classes, mingling with cheerleaders Casey Becker and Gloria Hayes - it was great.

Second period, Angela had a science course with Sidney and Stu, though Stu bowed out to sit with a buddy halfway through class. Third period, she took an advanced placement history class all alone, which she didn't really mind. It gave her time to reflect for a moment and relax from the rest of the day in the back of the room. Fourth period she took film studies and found herself alone as well, with the exception of Billy.

She'd been sitting in the middle of the room, next to a girl with thick glasses when he breezed in. Looking up from underneath her curls, they met eyes once again. Inhaling sharply, Angela turned away from him, knocking her book of the desk in the process. Bending down in her seat to grasp it, she lifted her head to find him sliding into the seat beside her.

"Hey." He said, the word rolling off his tongue.

"Oh, hi, Billy."

A brief moment of silence passed between them. "You take film studies?"

"I could say the same to you." She smiled.

"What, are you surprised?"

"No.. just wouldn't peg you as the film studies type of guy, I guess."

"I wouldn't peg you for the film studies type of girl, either." He returned her smile.

"I'm not artsy enough?" She managed to get a small chuckle out of him. "My Dad and I love movies."

He was focused on the board ahead of them. "How do you like it here?"

"It's okay. A lot different."

"Yeah. It is."

With that, he'd stood again and made his way over to the other students. They hadn't spoken again all class period. Which was fine by Angela. Billy intimidated her. Not because he was admittedly attractive, but because he was popular. The kids at this school adored him, seemingly lapping up everything he said the entirety of the class period. Angela'd been pretty popular at her old school, but she had no idea how this small town shit worked.

x

After fourth period came to a close, Randy and Sidney had met up by Tatum's shiny red beetle in the lot, waiting for Billy, Stu and her to make their way out of the emptying school. Sliding up onto the hood, Randy scanned the doors.

"You're awfully quiet." Sidney remarked.

"Huh?" He mumbled. "Oh, yeah. Just a little drained. Public education'll do that to you."

Sidney squinted through the afternoon sun glaring off of Tatum's car. Something was definitely up with Randy. She'd been friends with him since junior high; and he usually didn't stick around long after classes were over. Randy'd take a swift exit to make his way to the video store in the town square.

"I think it's Angela."

"Please, Sidney." He scoffed. "It's not like Angela is a hot, new girl I used to charm back in my childhood."

"Oh my God, you like her!"

"No, I don't." He scoffed.

Sidney opened her mouth to speak, but promptly shut it, Stu and Tatum approaching across the lawn. Billy followed close behind, Sidney immediately perking up at his presence. Keeping her suspicion of Randy's affection for Angela was probably for the best if they were all going to be conversing.

"Randy! Get the hell off my car, geek." Tatum demanded, breaking Stu's embrace.

"Relax! Relax." He slid off the hood, adjusting his jacket.

"He's waiting for Angela." Sidney cocked an eyebrow.

Stu guffawed at this, pointing at Randy. "You can't be serious!"

"A hundred and uno."

Billy smirked. "At least the kid's trying."

"A for effort!" Tatum sarcastically nodded.

"Just because 'Angela is like, smokin, man', doesn't mean I like her." Randy imitated Stu.

Tatum narrowed her eyes at him. "Really, Stu?"

"He's full of shit." Stu demanded. "I never said that. She's a brunette."

A familiar Mercedes convertible wheeled up beside the group, Nirvana blaring through the radio's speakers. Reaching over to twist the dial down, Angela whisked off her sunglasses.

"You getting in, Randy?"

"Yeah." Randy aimed his words at Stu, who muttered something into Tatum's shiny hair. "Give me one sec."

"Hey, Angela." Stu cleared his throat. "Would you, like, call this a date?"

"It's not a date." Angela said delicately. Tatum was busy giggling, while Sidney and Billy merely cracked a smile. He noted the Nirvana thing.

"See you guys later." Randy slammed the door.

"Hey, wait!" Stu slipped away from his girlfriend, rushing to the side of the car.

"What do you want?" Randy sighed.

"Can I get a ride home?"

Angela blinked. "I thought you were going with Tatum?"

"Cheer practice." She held up a lone pom-pom from her car. "And doofus' car is in the shop."

Stu shrugged. "Yeah, guess I need driving lessons from you, Tate."

"Sure, get in." Angela laughed at their bickering.

"Sweet, thanks." He vaulted into the back of the car, sparking an entire conversation with Randy about how he'd managed to pull off the feat.

"You need a ride, Sidney?"

"No, no. I'm going home with Billy. But thank you for the offer." Sidney spoke.

"You know what that means." Stu grinned from the backseat, where he was reclined, his feet kicked up on the console.

"Try a little subtly, you dick." Billy warned.

"I was joking, man."

"I really hate to break this up but some people have a living to make." Randy announced.

x

After an undoubtedly interesting twenty minutes, they'd dropped off Stu at his home and retraced the drive back to the video store. Angela enjoyed their bickering for the most part along their journey, but was grateful to finally arrive at the video store It was bright and colorful, with plenty of windows shining light in on the extensive array of video tapes.

There were a few customers in the store, shambling around aimlessly. Randy got to work almost immediately, wheeling around a clunky cart scattered with tapes. Angela was stationed at the register, ringing up customers, answering the phone and placing returned tapes into a box. She was quite impressed with his work ethic.

The afternoon went by slowly. So slowly, in fact, that Angela figured she'd phone her Dad up at work. Randy had disappeared into the back room to take inventory, and the store was dreadfully empty. Dialing the number to his new work number, she patiently waited until he picked up.

"Rich Edwards speaking, can I help you?"

"Hi, Daddy." Angela smiled.

"Hey, pumpkin! How was school?"

"It was great."

"I'm glad. I told you it would be."

"You remember Randy Meeks?"

She heard the clatter of a keyboard in the background of the call. "What'd you say? Randy? You know, I do remember him!"

"Well, he's in my first period and now we're at the video store." She hesitated. "I'm helping him out with his job."

"A job?" She could hear his surprise. "It's your first day, honey."

"Not my job."

"Huh. Don't let it affect your grades, Angela." His voice grew stern.

"I won't, Daddy. Don't worry."

She faintly heard the sounds of another person in the background. "Listen, I gotta run. I'm glad you're adjusting well. I'll see you home around ten. Love you."

"Love you too."

Angela set the phone down and had just returned to sorting through tapes when Randy slid up onto the counter beside the register, causing her to a jump a little. It was dark outside the vast windows now, with the exception of a few faint traces of pink streaking through the sky. The rolling California hills in the distance had become just silhouettes now. In fact, she found it more beautiful than the San Francisco skyline.

"Didn't mean to scare you."

"Jesus, give a little warning next time!"

He snickered. "Was that the famous Rich Edwards?"

"Of course. He remembers you."

"I'm unforgettable."

"That's for sure." Angela dumped a box onto Randy's cart. "Anyway, what time do you get off?"

He glanced at his watch. "Eleven."

If Angela wasn't home on time, her Dad would give her quite the talking to, and probably ground her in a well-meant attempt to establish ground rules. He meant well, but sometimes he tried too hard to fill the void her Mother's betrayal and disbandment had left. The ramifications were seemingly endless.

"I'm gonna have to leave. My Dad gave me a ridiculous curfew."

"Don't worry about it." Randy masked his disappointment, jumping down and rifling through the fresh stack on his cart. "I usually pop a movie on in the back when it's slow."

"That's pretty cool, really." She rested her chin on her hand. "Think your boss'll care if I help you out sometimes?"

"Definitely not.. and hey, thanks for giving me a ride today, Ang. I'm really glad you're back."

Angela gathered up her bag, fishing her car keys out with a smile. "No problem. Thanks for being so nice. Not sure I would've made it through today without you."

"Be safe driving home, alright?"

"Will do!"


	3. Chapter 3

The next month passed by quickly for Angela. Woodsboro was growing on her once again, surely, but slowly. She became better friends with Sidney and Tatum, who began to trust and confide in her. When she wasn't helping out Randy at the video store for some extra cash or kicked back in the stock room with him, munching on a bowl of popcorn and debating horror movies, Angela found herself with the girls.

At home, her Dad was making minimal progress, both emotionally and with the home. He ate microwave TV meals almost every night before retreating into his office and working. That's all he seemed to do anymore. It was depressing, really. Angela spent as little time as possible at home for this precise reason. It was not a home, but rather the shell of one. It had potential. She and her Father loved each other very much - but he was numb to emotions, still reeling.

In her own life, Angela faced an issue of her own. Each day, she guiltily looked forward to last period, and not for the simple reason that it was the last class of the school day. It was fucked up, but she had developed an odd curiosity for one of her best friend's boyfriends. Angela refused to act upon it. She would not be a homewrecker, like her Mother, or do that to Sidney.

Besides, it's not like Billy thought of her in that light.

They spoke everyday, and sometimes he took a seat beside her in film studies, but he was purely being a friend. It wasn't solely his looks that sparked something within her. There was something behind those deep brown eyes that intrigued her; left her hanging onto every word he said, no matter how mundane. But that was the thing with Billy. Nothing about him was mundane.

Angela Edwards was confident, friendly and flirty. She'd never met a boy who could intimidate her, and make her feel nervous. Not even her quarterback ex-boyfriend Paul, and he was unbelievably talented and gorgeous. This brooding Woodsboro boy was... different. As cliche as it sounded, he was.

x

It was a record breaking cold day for this time of November in California. Angela'd slipped into a bright blue sweater and a tan plaid skirt with blue and white intersecting lines, and white socks that slouched above her white tennis shoes. That said, she was freezing her ass off, and Stu had already graciously pointed this out. Randy and Sidney were by her side in the hallway, carrying on their conversation from lunch about the weather.

"You know, in 6 weeks it'll be a year since my Mom died." Sidney remarked softly. Angela turned around from her locker at this, exchanging a glance with Randy.

"You okay, Sid?" He asked.

"Fine. Fine." She shook her head, squinting down the hallway. "I just... thought about it."

"Come hang at the video store tonight." Angela offered. "I promise, it's not that boring."

Sidney contemplated this for a moment. Randy invited her all the time, but if Angela went often, she figured it couldn't be that bad. "Alright."

"You're a miracle worker, Angela." Randy remarked, half-smiling. He glanced down at his watch. "Shit, gotta run."

Angela retrieved her notebook from the locker before easing it shut and stepping closer to Sidney. She didn't know exactly what it was like to have a dead Mother, but she was all too familiar with not having one around. "I'm really sorry about your Mom."

"I just don't understand how Cotton could... do that."

"Me neither." Her heart sunk at the same time the bell let out a shrill ring. "We'll hang at the store later, alright? Randy's sure to make a goof of himself."

"I think he likes you, you know."

Angela was a bit taken back, knowing what she did about the inner workings of Randy's emotions. "You didn't hear it from me, but he's got a thing for you."

"Randy?!"

She nodded, giggling. "Come on. He's a love sick puppy, Sid. I say go for it."

"You know I love Billy."

She winced. Sidney loved Billy, but here she was lusting after him. "Yeah. I know."

"Thanks for inviting me tonight. I really appreciate it, you know."

Sidney truly did appreciate Angela's kindness. Besides her friends, a majority of the other people at school thought she was simply being dramatic about her Mother as of late. She wasn't sure she could manage the steadily approaching one year anniversary without them. Sidney was undoubtedly strong, but she wasn't stupid. She heard the voices of girls in the bathroom making awful accusations. Angela flashed her sweet smile.

x

Fourth period had already begun, and Angela rushed to take her usual seat amid the stares of her classmates before the teacher noticed. Flipping open her notebook to a fresh white page, she scribbled the date down. Today, she already knew they'd be watching Bonnie and Clyde. Their first unit was on themes, and currently they were halfway through the heroes and anti-heroes portion of the class.

They'd watch a few movies from Mrs. Reynolds' selection, have a class discussion, write a paper analyzing the importance of theme and their in-depth interpretations of the heroes in the movie, and move onto the next film. Angela found it quite interesting. They'd already covered classics such as On the Waterfront, The Godfather and Network.

"Bonnie and Clyde." Mrs. Reynolds held up the tape. "I'm sure you all know the backstory of this, at the very least."

Murmurs echoed through the classroom. Of course, it was an infamous story. Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, total partners in crime. That, and who hadn't seen the movie at least once on late night television? Tugging at her skirt, Angela almost missed Katherine, the girl with thick glasses beside her, shooting a frail arm into the air.

"Bonnie is ridiculous."

Mrs. Reynolds hushed the rest of the room. "Why do you say that?"

"She died for Clyde."

Angela raised a hand at this. Mrs. Reynolds gave her a curious nod. "Well, she was driven by love."

"Come on. Life isn't a movie, city girl."

"Sure it is."

A voice spoke up from the back of the room. Angela didn't need to look to know who it belonged to. Excitement flooded her brain. Bending her head, she let the grin tugging at the corners of her lips make a brief appearance. Billy rarely contributed to class. Neither did Angela, truthfully. It was namely the geeks like Katharine that spoke up often, voicing all of their pretentious film knowledge. Yet here he was, defending her.

"How so, Billy?" Mrs. Reynolds prompted, sliding the tape into the VCR.

"Your life is like your own, personal movie."

Before Katharine could open her mouth to spew some inexplicably bitter comment, Mrs. Reynolds pressed play. Hitting the light switch and drawing the curtains, everyone begun to settle and produce their notebooks. Angela took this opportunity to look over her shoulder, stealing a glance at Billy. He was reclined against the back of his chair, a sliver of the sun peeking through the curtains casting half of his face in dim light.

Rolling her head back to facing the movie in front of her, she picked up her pencil, twirling it around in her fingers. The movie held her attention for a little over twenty minutes in, with Faye Dunaway's golden locks and Warren Beatty's snarky comments. Pulling her focus away, she noticed Billy was in the seat beside her, amused by her captivation.

"You like this movie?"

"Yeah, I do. Do you?"

"I like The Godfather better. Anti-hero, hero isn't really my thing."

"Me neither. I just think Bonnie and Clyde is romantic."

"Romantic?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Mhmm."

"Strange idea of romance."

"Thanks for sticking up for me." She spoke in a deliberate way; the voice in which it dripped with honey. She wondered if he noticed this. Ignoring Katharine's side eye, she lowered her voice the slightest bit. "What genre would you pick, Billy?"

"What?"

"You said your life is your own, personal movie. What genre would you pick?"

"You can't pick your genre." He hesitated, entertaining her question. "Horror."

Angela was puzzled at this. Staring at him, her head titled ever so slightly to the right, her mind tried to make sense of what he'd just said. Horror? She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say - that was the allure of Billy; but horror certainly wasn't it. Horror films invoked fear, they were synonymous with evil and fear.

"Why.. why horror?"

Katherine snapped her fingers at them. An irritated, dark look crossed his face. "Can you two shut your mouths?"

"I don't know." He said airily; ignoring her. He was avoiding something, leaving it out of his vague answer. Angela could've killed Katherine for eavesdropping on their conversation, he might've given a more elaborate answer. "I'll see you later, Ang."


	4. Chapter 4

The drive from the video store in the heart of Woodsboro to Angela's house was a long one that cut through the tall trees and frankly, a little eerie. It was nothing like San Francisco's vivacious, bustling streets. Anything could happen in the thick blanket of forest.

As the winding road took her further and further, the only sound being her radio, the bugs smacking her windshield and the wind rushing through her ears and lifting strands of her hair. It was often times like this she thought of her Mother. Paired with talking to Sidney about her own Mother's death at the store, it was unavoidable.

Alone, snaking her way through the silent Californian trees to her new home. She missed her. Cutting Angela off after the decision to join her Father had been cruel, and she'd never forgive the woman for breaking both their hearts, but the childhood girl within hanging from a thread yearned for the way things used to be.

It was lost in her thoughts that she somehow missed the deer standing in the middle of the road until her lights swept over the animal. Panic washed over her. Quickly gripping the wheel, Angela managed to maneuver the car onto the side of the road and out of the way of the deer, who darted in the opposite direction.

Slamming on the breaks just inches before the Mercedes collided with a bulky tree trunk, she felt a dribble fall down her cheek. Her hands trembled so much so she had difficulty switching the car into park. It was only when she began to look around did she notice the large, brightly lit home on the side of the road, barely half a mile away.

She needed to get a hold of herself. She hadn't hit the deer, and everything was going to be alright. Angela shoved open the door, stepping out. Everything was happening at once - the resentment for her Mother; the adrenaline from almost plowing into a deer.

Now, she was going crazy. She faintly heard low voices from somewhere in those trees. Approaching the treeline hesitantly, the clicks of her boots echoing into the near silence, the voices grew louder, and seemingly closer. Just a few feet away, the leaves rustled.

Billy and Stu emerged, Stu clutching a knife. She shrieked with surprise, stumbling backwards. The knife glinted in the moonlight, causing her to catch the deep crimson blotches on it. The strands of hair that hung in front of his face hid the surprise that filled them. In fact, both of their shirts had the same splattered color on it.

Stu slipped an odd, ghost face mask onto his face. "Hiya, Ang." Stu grinned. This grin was different from the one she'd seen many times before. "Like the outfit?"

"What's going on?" She eyed the knife. It was blood.

"No, no, that's not this works. We ask the questions. You get 'em wrong, slice and dice, baby!"

"How what works?!"

"Shut up!" Billy shouted. "Both of you, shut the fuck up! Give me the knife, Stu."

Angela flinched at his yell. They were scaring her. What could they possibly be doing with a mask and a bloody knife? There was nothing around here, except the home up the road. She doubted they hunted in their free time. Suddenly, it all clicked for her. Billy choosing horror as his genre, the knife, the mask. Backing up, her hands fumbled for the door handle. No one was meant to witness this.

She contemplated running for it as Stu presented the knife to Billy. If she ran fast enough, she could make it into the woods. Sucking in a breath, she made a dash for the treeline on the opposite side of the road, but just as fast Billy had looped around and caged her in his arms. His grip was inescapable. Angela hadn't even managed to make it ten feet past her car.

Stu was laughing, lurking right behind them. "Where you goin'?"

"Don't you move or I'll gut you like a fish!" Billy's voice was rigid, making it clear this was more than simply a threat.

Angela's hands begun shaking uncontrollably again. Only this time, it was fear. Whimpering, she shook her head. This couldn't be real life. "You killed someone, didn't you?"

"Oooh! She's a clever one, Billy. It's a shame we gotta-" Stu made a stabbing motion with his hand.

Billy let her go, circling around so he was standing in front of her. Lifting the knife, he drug it along the thin skin of her neck. A cold wash slithered down her spine, her stomach plunging. A tear fell down her cheek, looking up at him. Through her blurred vision, his smile was menacing - predatory, even. It felt like every nerve in her body had pin-pricked up.

"Tell me, what're you doing out here?"

"I-I'm coming home from the video store. I almost hit a deer."

He pressed the knife harder to her throat. She felt every small ridge in the blade. "Don't you lie to me."

"I swear!" She pleaded. The sound of blood coursing through her entire body, her heart pumping faster than ever, grew louder in her ears.

"Are you scared?"

"Yes."

"Oh, come on Angie, baby! Don't go crying on me!" Stu giggled mockingly, balling his fists up to his eyes.

She winced at this, holding a shaky hand up to her mouth. Billy continued to stare down at her, closer than he'd ever been to her. Angela knew he was a killer. A demented, fucked up human being, but his features up close somehow still dazzled her. Even with blood on his hands and a blade to her throat, she grasped for her life - and his sanity. There had to be the Billy she took film studies with in there somewhere; the one who left her hanging onto each word he spoke.

He was deciding. Angela wasn't like the other victims. She was... different. She had substance. Tears trickled down her rosy cheeks, falling in droplets off her jawline. He didn't particularly want to kill her, but if he had to, he had no problem doing so. Her fate in this scary movie was going to be up to her. That helpless, twisted look on her face almost made him feel sorry for her.

"Okay." He spoke softly, lifting the knife to move aside a strand of hair that'd fallen onto her dewy face. Oddly, this comforted her the tiniest bit. "You like horror movies, huh?"

"You know I do." She whispered, trembling.

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

"Nightmare on Elm Street." She choked through her uneven breathing.

He parted his lips to reveal a sinister grin. "A classic."

"Come on Billy, what does this have to do with anything?" Stu said, the faintest hint of uneasiness dripping from his voice as he peered down the road. "We can't stand here all day, man. Just kill her already-"

"Stu, I said shut the fuck up."

"Geez." He grumbled.

"I'm gonna ask you a question. If you get it wrong, you die. If you get it right - well, we'll figure that out." His eyes gleamed. "Got it?"

"G-Got it."

"What's the backstory for A Nightmare on Elm Street?"

Angela closed her eyes. Her mind was racing, muddled thoughts leaping into the forefront and ripping her away from the question every time she tried to devote her focus to it. This was life, or death. This one question would decide everything. The pressure alone of this was enough to crush her under it's weight, but she had to try. Desperation was the only thing that could save her.

She knew it was a ploy, a trick question. He didn't want a synopsis on the movie. He wanted something more. The inspiration. What drove Craven to create the film. She knew this, somewhere in the depths of her brain. It had something to do with a newspaper - she'd discovered it two years ago talking to her Father. Urging herself to think, her eyes suddenly flew open.

"I'm sorry, your time is up!"

"No, no I got it!" She yelped, her voice breaking off. He slid the knife from her hair and back down to her throat. If this was wrong, she'd be bleeding out in a matter of seconds. "Wes Craven was reading the newspaper, and um, refugees died mysteriously in their sleep after coming here. They wouldn't even sleep. They called it nightmare syndrome."

Billy slowly retracted the knife away from her throat. "Well. Impressive."

"Buuuuut you still die." Stu grinned.

Billy turned around at this, waving the knife towards him. "Hey, fuckrag, I'm in charge of this, okay?"

"You can't just let her go, Billy!"

"You really think I'd let her off without a warning?" He growled, returning to Angela. "If we let you go - you can't tell anyone."

"I won't. I promise! I promise on everything."

"You promise me?" Billy's voice grew softer, and every nerve in her body was electrified.

"I promise you."

"Good girl."

He smirked in a condescending manner, as if she was a child who'd just said something humorous. Angela's nerves were still on fire. She wanted to slap herself in that moment for being so sick. He ran a stained hand through his hair, heading back to the treeline, speaking to Stu in an inaudible voice. They both craned their necks to look back at her. She struggled to get a hold on her breathing; her palms dampened with sweat.

"Hey, I'm sorry I tried to get you killed, and all." Stu stepped closer to her. "Guess I got a little carried away, huh?"

She was still reeling from shock for the most part, but managed to laugh for a split second at just how ridiculous he sounded. Clearly he'd gotten a little carried away. Of all the people in Woodsboro she expected to be suffering from psychosis, these two were the least likely suspects to her. He nodded at her laugh, unfamiliar with shock.

He walked back to the treeline where Billy was waiting for him. Lifting the knife that could've slit her throat and gutted her just moments before, Billy gave her a wink. "Don't make me regret this, Ang."

"I won't."


	5. Chapter 5

Angela had been perched on the bench of her vanity, brushing out her hair before bed. She'd been intending to go to bed for hours now, but the events on the side of the road played on an endless loop in her brain. How could they be killers? Was this all a sick, weird nightmare? If that deer hadn't been there, she would've skirted off farther down the road, and none of this would've occurred.

What terrified her more than almost being carved in the middle of the road, left to bleed out until dawn, was the fact that she was still attracted to Billy. Toying with her hair with a knife, making her promise, and that wink - she was still reeling from it. What kind of person swooned at a murderous physco? Especially one that'd almost killed her on the spot? Was she crazy?

Life had always been upscale meals in the city with her parents, shopping excursions with her friends, puffy clouds in a blue sky. Angela knew murders happened, she wasn't completely naive to the world that surrounded her but never did she expect to know people who committed such a heinous crime. It didn't seem like something that could happen to her.

When mid-day Thursday rolled around and she was still embalmed in the safety of her bed, asking herself these questions on an endless loop and watching a re-run of Friends, a knock came at her bedroom door. If she hadn't been absolutely exhausted, she was positive this would've scared the shit out of her. Sitting upright, she watched the shadows dance under the door.

"Angela?"

"Who is it?" She called, shoving aside her heavy cream comforter.

"It's Sidney. Open up."

"And Tatum!"

"Um, one minute, guys." Cursing under her breath, Angela fumbled around for something to switch into. Finally deciding on a brown collared shirt she must've snaked from her Dad and slipping into it, she flung open the door. "Hey."

"Shit." Tatum mused. "Are you sick?"

"I hardly got any sleep last night." She glanced at the clock. It wasn't even noon yet. School should still be in session, yet they were in her bedroom door frame.

"Did you hear what happened?"

As the two of them spoke, Angela couldn't shake the image of their boyfriends, blood splattered on their clothes and wielding a knife. Billy had almost killed her. That, and she'd been slightly aroused by the entire thing. They were absolutely clueless.

"No, what happened?"

"Casey Becker and Steve Orth were murdered last night." Tatum shook her head.

"I don't get it." Sidney crossed her arms over her denim jacket, shaking her head. She looked a little more than rattled.

Tatum nodded. "The killer hung Casey from a tree for her parents to find. Both of them totally butchered."

Angela froze in place. That's who Billy and Stu had killed last night. The same knife that'd been deep inside Casey's guts had been up to her throat. Casey was one of her friends - sure, they weren't nearly as close as she was to Sidney and Tatum, but knowing who was responsible for their deaths and not being able to do a single thing about it hit her like a full speed train.

Tatum was blabbering on about how the principal had interviewed every student, and had made it very clear to the girls he wanted to see Angela as soon as possible. Angela couldn't hear them anymore after a moment, her ears quickly being drained by a ringing sound. Thankfully, Sidney latched onto her elbow, leading her over to the bed.

"Oh my God, are you alright?"

"Yeah.. I'm fine. I just can't believe.."

"Mr. Himbry's suspicious of you." Tatum rolled her eyes, plopping down in the plush chair in the corner. "I told him he's out of his mind."

"Me?" Angela squeaked. "What- I was at the video store with Randy and Sidney last night."

"I told him that." Sidney reassured her. "They're just grasping for leads. They just questioned every student."

"Um, I guess I better go down there."

"Do you want me to take you? I'm dropping off Stu and Sidney-"

"No, no thank you... but, did you say Stu is here?" Angela's eyes widened.

"Uh, yeah. He's in the kitchen."

Angela was rushing down the winding staircase, her bare feet hitting the cold hard wood before flitting into the kitchen. Tatum and Sidney followed close behind, wondering what the hell had gotten into Angela today. Conveniently enough, the two of them chalked it up to the murders. It had everyone off their rocker today. Sidney included. It was too similar to her own Mother's death for her to sweep it under the rug.

Stu had settled on one of the barstools, and had taken it upon himself to turn on the television in the kitchen over a bag of Lays. At the sight of Angela, he removed a greasy hand from the bag and stopped crunching on the chips. A little less than twelve hours ago, he had wanted her filleted. Snatching the remote, she clicked the television off.

"Your pops has a nice little pad here." He remarked with a mouth full of chips.

She gritted her teeth. "Thanks."

"C'mon, Stu. Ang has to go down to school." Sindey sighed, yanking the bag away from him.

"What, is she a suspect?"

Angela would be dead right now if it were up to him. Instead of throwing him out of her house on his ass, she offered a phony laugh. "Yeah, I guess. They just have no clue who did it."

"Hey, you know you look a lot like your Mom?"

Everyone stopped moving for a moment when Stu said this. How would he know what Lorraine Edwards looked like? Angela took in a small breath. "How do you know that?"

"Your Dad has a picture of her in his office."

"Why- why were you in my Dad's office?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, man, I thought it was the kitchen at first."

"Do you always have to be so stupid?" Tatum hissed, whacking him with the bag of chips.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't go creeping around my house." She said sternly. This was the first time anyone had seen her even remotely pissed. Reaching for her car keys off the counter island, she smiled to the girls. "I better go. Thanks for stopping by."

* * *

The questioning went much better than she had anticipated. Two police officers, one of which was Tatum's brother, escorted her to the principal's office from the main lobby of the school. They questioned her absence from school, for which she justified by saying she was under a lot of stress trying to look after her Father. It wasn't a lie, just not the reason she didn't show to school.

Mr. Himbry explained to her why he'd been so suspicious, with her being the new girl and everything. It made logical sense to Angela, if she could even be a judge on what was deemed logical anymore. This would've been the perfect time to rat them out, potentially saving more innocent lives. Yet somehow, she couldn't seem to find the words, or the courage. Something wasn't right with Billy, and getting him locked up wasn't going to help anything.

* * *

Angela was perched at her vanity, the brightly lit bulbs the only source of light in the darkness that had set in. Lost in the trance of scrutinizing her features, trying to deny any traces of her Mother, she missed the thuds coming from outside. Blinking at her own bright blue eyes, she grabbed a brush and tossed it across the room, sending it crashing into the window.

"What're you trying to do?"

Jerking around, she wasn't sure if she should be scared, or thrilled. The same spine chilling shock hit her heavily. Definitely scared. "I didn't tell anyone! I promise."

Billy stared at her, his amber eyes wide. Instead of his usual tee, he wore a pale blue polo shirt. He was at a loss for words. He'd always found Angela attractive. Even last night, with tears in her eyes and fear on her face. Seeing her in a tiny ivory slip, lace detailing covering her chest, was quite the spectacle. Turning away, he cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you'd be in your lingerie."

"It's not lingerie." She quipped, reaching down to pull the hem of her slip lower. "What are you doing here?"

"Are you scared?"

He looked over his shoulder from where he'd picked up one of her tapes. It was Halloween. Popping it into the VHS beneath her television, the bright orange opening credits flashed onto the screen, the iconic theme beginning to fill her room. Angela was careful to keep track of his every move, paranoia still lingering in the back of her mind. Any second, he could turn around and brandish that knife, digging it through her jugular. That'd be all there was to it.

"No." She lied, and as soon the words left her lips Billy intentionally raised an eyebrow. He called her bluff. "A little."

"I just wanted to talk."

"Talk?" Angela stood, making her way to the edge of the bed, where Sidney had been just hours before. "Or kill me?"

"Talk." He asserted rather sharply. If he'd wanted to kill her, he would've done so already.

She narrowed her eyes. "You've never snuck in my window at night before to just talk."

"You never gave me a reason before."

She said nothing at this. Was the whole pajama thing, paired with this comment, him flirting with her? Angela was torn between her unreasonable hope that he was, and her better judgement. What would Sidney think of this? What would anyone think of this? He was the kind of person she called sick, their mugshot plastered on televisions across the country. Shaking her head, she returned to the movie. Dr. Loomis and the nurse were transporting Michael.

"Dr. Loomis. Billy Loomis." He'd roped her back into unbreakable eye contact. It was so hard to resist getting lost in his mysterious, cool eyes. "You know, I realized that when I first met you. Should've known from them."

He smirked. "What kind of person lets a killer in their room?"

"I could call the cops any second, Billy."

"They'd never make it on time." He assured her smugly. That devious smirk never left his face.

He was right. She was conscious of her very breathing all of a sudden. "Why'd you kill Casey and Steve?"

"It doesn't matter." He sat beside her on the bed, facing the movie. "What happened with your Mother?"

"Why do you want to know?" An awkward silence silence passed over them. It didn't take long for her to crack. "She had a few affairs, then cut me off because I went to live with my Dad."

"Why?"

"I don't know. She got mad. I tried reaching out to her, but..."

"But nothing."

"Yeah." Her fingers found the strap of her slip, fidgeting with it nervously. It wasn't often she spoke about her Mother. "How'd you know?"

"My Mother abandoned me too."

Billy was oblivious to Angela's surprise. He said it with the slightest trace of sadness. She knew the feeling all too well. He was a psychopath and a killer - she knew this, but it was so hard not to sympathize with him. He was offering up an opportunity. A real glimpse at his emotions, and it was her's for the taking. She wondered how many people saw this side of Billy Loomis. Reaching out a hand, she placed atop of his carefully.

His attention had been fixed on the movie, where Laurie was being followed down the street, leaving for school in the morning. At her touch, he turned to her with surprise. Noticing this, Angela could feel her cheeks heating. What was she thinking, trying to comfort him? He didn't want her consolation.

"I'm sorry." She retracted her hand quickly. "I was just-"

"No, no, it's alright."

"I wasn't thinking."

"You are so..." He trailed off.

"So what?"

"Beautiful."

The same intoxicating feeling from the night before. It was like he'd knocked the breath out of her. Resting his head against hers, his hand cupped her chin. This was wrong on so many levels, but she couldn't stop the excitement from this moment. She half-expected him to kiss her, but instead he sat, rubbing a thumb along her cheek. This sent warm, erratic tingles throughout her.

"I wanted someone dead for the exposition." He murmured. "Stu chose Casey and Steve."

"Why them?"

"Casey broke up with him for Steve."

Angela strained to keep her eyes open, scared he'd disappear if she merely blinked. "Exposition?"

"You'll see."

"Should I be afraid?"

"Angela!"

Her Father's voice whisked her back into reality, and out of the warm moment. Scooting away from Billy, she motioned for him to hide somewhere. Instead, he swiftly made a mode for the window, swinging his legs out. Before he disappeared into the night, he flashed her a heart stopping smile. She took that as a no. For now, at least.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, why didn't you show up to school?" Randy nudged Angela the next morning as she stepped out of her car.

"I can't take my Dad anymore. He's like a zombie. He's just not the same ever since my Mom screwed him over. The night before, he just... lost it at dinner. Crying, and everything." She looked down at her shoes. Lying to Randy was hard.

"I'm sorry your Mom's wacked out."

"It's not your fault."

"You know, some people think you and your Dad are suspects." Randy shrugged. "Just warning you."

"What?"

"It doesn't add up, though. A grief stricken family, vulnerable, moves back to Woodsboro. I think someone's trying to frame you. Classic horror movie."

Frame her. That must've been what Stu was up to, lurking around in her home when Sidney and Tatum came by. He had definitely had moments where his brain lapsed, but there's no way he could've mistaken the office for a kitchen. Even worse was the realization that Billy may have been putting on an act the night before. Angela'd been a fool to think that he would actually reciprocate her fascination with him.

Randy watched her carefully, trying to discern what she was feeling. He had no idea. If she flipped out on Billy and Stu, it'd be clear that they were the killers. Besides, she cried when she became angered. She was getting inside her own head, freaking herself out. Even though Billy might turn out to be a douchebag with no regard for a girl's feelings on top of the murderous physco thing, Angela still felt as though she needed to protect him.

"That's ridiculous." She spoke softer, nursing her wounds.

"Don't take it personally. These people are brain dead. They need to watch a few slashers, learn a little. It'd save them time. The police are always off with this stuff!"

"That they are." She laughed. "You don't think I'm the killer, right?"

"I don't, Ang." He reassured her. "Wanna come by the store tonight? It's Friday."

"I don't know, Randy..."

"All right, all right. I'll come by your place. We can watch Nightmare on Elm Street, pop some Jiffy pop."

"Alright, fine." She smiled, allowing him to persuade her. "I thought they fired you?"

"Twice." He grinned.

They were quickly approaching Billy, Sidney and Tatum at their lockers. Angela thought she'd be able to hold herself together, but when her eyes met Billy's and he gave her the faintest of smiles, tears sprung into her eyes.

"I'll see you guys later." Turning around, she could hear Randy calling after her.

She rushed through the hallway, zipping upstairs to the dead silent third floor. The third floor was what'd once been the attic of the building, but was now where the art studio and wood shop was located. Those classes didn't start until second period, so it was desolate. She knew she'd have to face Randy in algebra and explain herself, but for the moment she just needed to get away from everyone.

There was nothing but the sound of the air conditioner whirring from above, and every now and then a door would open from one of the lower floors. It was peaceful for a while, but soon her mind took over again. She never imagined she'd find herself in a situation like this one. Glancing up, the echoes of boots trailing up the stairs rang out, producing none other than Billy.

"Get away from me."

A confused look washed over his face. "What's going on with you today?"

"You and Stu are trying to-"

"Whoa, now, oh." He hurried over, pressing a finger to her lips. "Keep it down. The hell are you talking about?"

"You're trying to frame me. Perfect setup - new people in town, hurt from my Mom's abandonment. People would lick it up."

"Listen to me." His voice was husky, demanding her full attention. "I'm not framing you, or your Dad."

"Well, what was Stu doing sneaking around in my house yesterday?"

"You let me take care of Stu."

"Was last night a part of your setup?" She blurted out, the tears threatening to return.

Billy shook his head, murmuring small 'No's. He genuinely cared for Angela Edwards. She'd caught his eye from day one, but her veering off to avoid that deer had been a stroke of fate. She was beautiful, compassionate, trustworthy. Unexpectedly, he enveloped her into his arms gently. As he stroked the back of her hair, Angela felt safe. In the arms of a killer, she felt safe.

"You promise me?"

"Promise." He enunciated the word promise. "You're my leading girl, Ang."

She swallowed a giddy smile. His leading girl. "What about Sidney?"

"Don't worry about her." Billy's eyes glinted with the same menacing sparkle he'd shown the night Casey and Steve were murdered. Taking a step backwards, he bent down to plant a small kiss on her cheek. She found herself practically aching for more. "We'll talk later."

x

Lunch was practically unbearable. The entire courtyard was buzzing around, the names of Casey Becker and Steve Orth lingering on everyone's lips. Some were excitedly sharing their amateur theories on who the killer was, others were plotting out how to stay safe from any potential risks. This was the most interesting thing to happen to little Woodsboro since Maureen Prescott's slaying.

A few of Steve's friends were tossing a football back and forth, whistling when Angela walked by. With an irritated smirk, she hurried past them to the fountain, taking a place beside Randy. Stu had his arm draped over Tatum, who was picking at a bag of grapes. Billy was lying on his back, smoking a cigarette, Sidney between his legs. Strangely enough, this irritated Angela to her core. Seeing Sidney cozied up to him was like being slapped in the face.

"Hey." She smiled, stealing one of Tatum's grapes.

"I see Steve's friends are wasting no time on you." Sidney cracked.

"Ang, I have a question for you." Tatum spoke up. "Do you think the killer is a woman?"

"Why do you ask?" Angela tilted her head.

Stu interrupted. "It takes a man to do something like that."

"Or a man's brutality."

"Bullshit." Angela answered. "Anyone can kill anyone."

"Thank you." Tatum flashed a smug smile.

Billy sat up at this, flicking his cigarette into the fountain, pointing a stern look at Angela. A part of her wanted to get back at him for being all cuddly with Sidney right under her nose after their conversation. Plucking another grape, she lifted her chin in the slightest, expressing her irritation to him. Trying her best to shake her jealousy, she crossed her legs.

"So, Stu, are the police aware you dated the victim?" Randy leaned in closer.

"What, are you saying I killed them?" Stu mused, squinting through the sun at him. Angela bit into the grape.

"It would certainly improve your high school Q."

"Stu was with me last night, okay?" Tatum purred.

He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously. "Yeah, I was."

"Oh really? Was that before or after he sliced and diced?"

Tatum and Stu laughed at this, while Angela plastered on fake amusement. Truthfully, she was anxious with this conversation. Stu'd already relayed instructions on how to gut someone. She supposed the was trying out a reverse psychology sort of tactic, but it was far too risky for her liking. Tatum returned her attitude to Randy.

"Fuck you, you nutcase. Where were you last night, anyway?"

"Working. Thank you."

"Oh, at the video store? I thought they fired your sorry ass."

"Twice." Angela spoke up for him, laughing softly.

Randy popped a stick of gum into his mouth, holding his palms open. Peeking out of the corner of her eye, Angela could tell Sidney was growing more and more rigid as a result of this conversation. She hadn't uttered a word the entire time. It was so similar to Cotton's murdering of her own Mother, Sidney was likely about to cave any moment.

"I didn't kill anybody." Stu said indignantly.

"Nobody said you did." Billy added.

"Thanks, buddy."

The conversation carried on, Stu and Randy bantering back and forth, Angela pretending to be amused by Stu's stupidity and keeping her voice steadied, and Billy shooting daggers into his partner in crime. In much less time than Angela anticipated, Sidney gave Billy a kiss on the cheek and slung her backpack on, setting off across the courtyard.

Sidney couldn't believe they were just sitting around joking about Casey and Steve like that. They were someone's family; someone's children. It was all too much. Everywhere she went, people were discussing the interrogations or the gory details of the murder scene. Angela watched her go with wide eyes.

x

Angela was in the kitchen that afternoon, slicing up fruit for a salad when the doorbell chimed. Setting down her knife, she sighed. It wasn't even seven yet, and she hadn't been expecting Randy until a little after his shift. Friday nights were always the busiest time in the store, with people practically ransacking the organized selections. Pulling open the door, she expected a witty comment from her good friend, but instead Stu Macher was pacing around on her front porch.

"Stu?"

"Is your Dad home?" He asked, breezing past her into the kitchen.

"Uh, no." She trailed after him, dazed. "What's going on?"

"They got Billy, man!"

Angela tensed up. "What?"

"We were just at Sid's, and she called the cops. Cell fell from his pocket and she thought it was him on the phone." A smirk formed. "I mean, yeah was but... crazy bitch."

"Oh, God."

This was a nightmare. Her heart ached for him. The same tears from earlier this morning arose in her throat. What if they caught him, and he was incarcerated? He deserved it, but at the same time, he didn't. No one understood him, that's all. The countless worst case scenarios gnawed away at her. Jail, death penalty, the list drug on. Never being able to sit inches from his dreamy smile.

Leaning against the counter island, she lost her control on the lump threatening to rise, tears spilling. Stu, bumbling around her home, was slightly unsure how to react. Hurrying over, he placed both his hands on her face. Angela wasn't typically one for tears, but this wasn't a trivial everyday occurrence. She was fucking around with real shit, here.

"Relax, relax. We gotta keep cool."

"Is he... does he have evidence on him?"

"No way, Billy's smart." He spoke confidently. There was no chance in hell Billy would allow himself to be outsmarted by the police. "I have the cloned cell, and the mask. Nothing can go back to him. Don't worry."

"What if he goes to jail?"

"Sidney branded him the candy man for the night. He's gonna be out in a few hours." Stu licked his lips, releasing her. Hoisting himself up onto the counter, he tilted his head in mock interest. "Wow, you and Billy are good friends now, huh?"

If Billy hadn't told Stu about their little tryst, she figured it wasn't her place to spill the details on it. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she struggled for words. "Yeah."

"See, Ang, I know _you_ know I know." He twiddled his index fingers back and forth between the both of them.

"Know what, exactly?"

"Ohhhh yeah, I know you guys have got the hots for each other." Theatrics ensued, with Stu falling backwards onto the counter. " _'Oh, Billy'_."

"Shut up!" She laughed at his shrill imitation of her, swiping away the tears from her eyes. "Why were you two at Sidney's?"

Stu spun around, giving her a twisted look. "Hasn't lover boy told you the plan?"

"No, he hasn't, thank you very much."

"We were trying to scare her." He pulled a cellular phone from his pocket, waving it around. Angela watched him also retrieve a small voice changer, holding it up to his lips. Clicking the button, his voice transformed into a deep, unrecognizable tone. "Do you wanna die, Angela?"

"Knock it off, Stu."

"You're right. I gotta call Sidney." His eyes glinted beneath the recess lighting. "Wanna watch? It's fuuun."

"I'm good, thanks." Angela raked her fingers through her hair, trying to get a grip on herself. Panicking wasn't going to help. "Hey, Stu?"

"Yes?" He spoke into the voice changer, teasing her from the doorway.

"Do you think Billy's going to be okay?"

"Aww, how romantic." He cooed. "After I make this call, he's clear."

* * *

It was eight o'clock, and Stu's lean frame was carelessly strewn out on her living room sofa. Angela still found him irritating and obnoxious, but that was a part of his goofball charm. After this evening, she liked him a bit more. Enough to share a tray of tater tots with him after allowing him to spark up a blunt on the back porch. Billy was at the back of her mind the entire time. She wondered what the police were still doing with him, and how she would know he was free.

Rubbing her eyes, she clicked off the television and tossed aside the glossy magazine she'd been trying to read at the distant laugh of her Father. Who was he talking to? Supposing it was Randy, she braced herself for his questioning. Glancing at Stu, a tater tot resting on his cheek and a line of drool running down his jawline, she tried her hardest to clean up as the sound of the key twisting in the front door rang out.

"Angela?" Her Dad called out. "Whose car is that outside?

"Christ. This better not be what I think it is." Randy groaned, the two of them filing into the living room. Randy noticed Stu immediately, placing a finger on his lip. "Well, well. What do we have here, Rich?"

Angela's Father hesitated, fumbling to loosen his tie. "I don't want to know who this is."

Randy gave him a pat on the back. "You are absolutely right, sir."

"Stu." Angela shook him awake, sending him leaping to his feet. "Wake up."

"I'm sorry, Mom-" He convulsed back into consciousness, taking in his surroundings groggily. Randy made a mental note of this moment, depositing it for a later burn. "Shit. I gotta get out of here."

"See you later." Angela called after him.

"Thanks for the tots."

Once Stu had stumbled out the front door, Rich Edwards chorused his goodnights to Randy and Angela. Without another word, he was off to ditch his stuffy suit and fold himself into bed. Tossing a green plastic bag onto the couch, Randy reached in and presented Angela with a copy of Nightmare on Elm Street, two bags of butter flavored Jiffy-Pop, and, to his personal dismay, her favorite movie of all time - While You Were Sleeping.

"Before we begin, what the hell was Stu doing here?" He cocked his head. "If you're nailing him, I'm gonna have to leave."

"No, I'm not nailing Stu! Gross, Randy. We're friends."

Randy eyed While You Were Sleeping, inserting it into the VHS player and putting on a scarily accurate impression of Stu. "But, Angie is like, totally smokin'."

"He said that?"

"Not around Tatum." A gummy smile followed.

"Well, trust me. I wouldn't dream of screwing the guy."

"I'm sure you heard about Billy Loomis getting arrested."

She steadied her voice. Her poor Billy. If only Randy knew she was ridden with anxiety. "Yeah."

"You think it was him?"

"No. Do you?"

"Of course."

"Why's that?"

Angela wondered, folding her legs beneath her. It was going to be tough to manage just how worried she was this evening, camouflaging her emotions, but it was a necessity. Randy was intelligent - he'd pick up on something, chalk it all up. If she wanted to keep both he and Billy safe, she'd needed to remain strong.

"There's always some stupid, bullshit reason to kill your girlfriend."

"I don't think it was him." Grasping for anything to justify this, she snapped a finger. "What about her Dad?"

"Oh, come on!" Randy shouted. "He's probably dead somewhere. He's a red herring. Billy's the killer."

"Settle down, Magnum PI." Extending an arm, she waved the popcorn in front of him. "Let's go pop some corn."


	7. Chapter 7

Fluttering her eyes open, Angela's vision adjusted to the dark. A Nightmare on Elm Street was playing on the living room television, Randy dozed off with his back pressed against the sofa she was stretched out along. Straining her ears, she listened closely for the sound that'd awoken her. Delicately sliding off of the sofa as not to awake Randy, she tip-toed over to the dining room archway.

Paired with the eerie Nightmare on Elm Street soundtrack blaring from her television, Angela's breathing staggered. A shot of cold air breezed through the dining room, ruffling the heavy drapes, signaling to her the veranda doors were cracked. Slinking into the darkness, her eyes made out the vague shape of a bouquet of flowers.

Approaching them, she slid one from the plastic wrap and examined the thorny stem. Deep, red roses. What kind of burglar left roses on her dining room table? Gently pushing the double veranda doors open, Angela's fear melted into utter joy.

The wide veranda of her home overlooked the scenic California hills, where there was nothing but trees for miles and miles, with the exception of the orange glow of a home in the distance. A few gray clouds hovered in front of the half moon, but the gentle glow of the moon paired with the twinkling of stars lit Billy's face up wondrously.

"It occurred to me you might come looking for trouble."

Biting her lip, her cheeks daintily flushed in a rosy shade. Her eyes darted down. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He said smoothly, lifting a cool hand to her neck. "They couldn't trace the call."

"I was nervous."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to get caught, Billy."

The inexplicable concern she had for him triggered his pulse. "Don't worry about me."

His fingers slid upwards to her cheek, caressing her almost. A rolling wave of heat traveled up her neck, his eyes flitting to her lips. Billy saw the vulnerability sparkling in Angela's pretty features. He'd seen it from the first time he spoke to her in class. His jaw clenched tightly.

Leaning down, his mouth met hers. It was a way she'd never been kissed before. His lips pressed against hers with purpose, intention. Every inch of her was set ablaze, leaning into the kiss. Billy jerked her closer, her rising and falling chest clutched to his own. Each kiss was more ravenous than the last. Keenly holding her, his breath caught at the small moan that emanated her soft lips.

Angela returned the hungry demand in his kiss, to his surprise. She'd wanted this just as bad as he had, if not more. Shuddering under him; he was swift to drop his hands to her backside, easing her into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his torso, he lifted her with ease. The shallow breath caught in her throat, he spun her around to press open the french doors. All the while, their lips remained in unison.

Laying her down on the glass table top of the dining room table, Angela wound her legs tighter around him, and her fingers intertwined in his slick hair. Letting his name escape her lips, he positioned himself on top of her, groaning against the silky curve of her neck. Reaching a hand beneath her slip, he toyed with the waistband of her underwear. Angela was like a drug to Billy, and he wanted to overdose.

All of a sudden, he tore himself away from her, reaching behind her back to ease her into a sitting position between his legs. Reeling from the fire that had just ravaged her, she struggled to settle herself down. Billy raked a hand through his hair, slicking it back down. Her heart still pumping, Angela reached up to tame her own hair.

"Why'd you stop?" She gasped.

He chuckled at this. He hadn't wanted to, but he couldn't bring himself take advantage of Angela. On a far more serious note, he cleared his throat. "Tell me something, Ang."

"Alright." Her eyes twinkled. She was so innocent, so beautiful.

"Do you trust me?"

"I do." Angela whispered, placing her hands on his torso. "I trust you, Billy."

Billy pulled back, searching her pupils. "Why?"

"I..." Her words died off.

Why did Angela trust him? He'd threatened to kill her, gutted Casey Becker and Steve Orth in hideous fashion and was plotting against Sidney. Billy Loomis frightened her more than anyone, or anything. Yet just moments ago, she'd been tangled up in his arms, moaning his name. Protecting him. She didn't have an answer.

"You know we killed Sidney's Mom, right?" His disturbing words rippled through her.

Lusting after and making out with Sidney's boyfriend was already bad enough, but she was Angela's friend. She and Randy had been a shoulder for her to lean on that night in the video store, and Angela had grasped a better understanding on how badly her Mother's death had disturbed her world. Knowing that Billy was responsible for this haunted her even more.

Angela dropped her hands to his waist. "I don't want to know why. Not tonight."

"She had it coming." He said in an effort to soothe Angela, sensing her sense of guilt.

Resting her head against his chest, she listened to the distant beating of his heart. "I trust you."

"That's my girl."

He bent down once more, trailing his lips along from the base of her neck, back up to her sweet mouth for one more prolonged, passionate kiss. Angela greatly enjoyed the way he was rough with her, it was exactly what she'd expected from him - yet at the same time, kept conscious of her fragile frame. Sliding off the glass table, she lifted a finger to her lips, pleasantly swollen from their encounter, ushering for him to remain quiet.

Back in the living room, Randy was still slumped against the sofa, deep in slumber. Billy eyed him curiously. "What's Randy doing here?"

"We were watching movies." Angela laced her fingers through his, pursing her lips. "Is that jealousy I hear?"

"No." He said indignantly.

"You're not fooling anyone."

He whispered, but his words were intense. "You're mine, Angela."

Breathless, she rose to her tip-toes, moving to meet his lips once again. She was craving the feeling his kiss gave her. Billy gave her what she wanted, unlocking his hand from her's and placing it on the small of her back. For a long time, they carried on, Angela knowing full well as every second passed she was making a decision that would impact the rest of her life.

If he and Stu were caught, she'd be a witness to the entire thing, and possibly face jail herself. Even worse, this plan they were executing, that she was too scared to ask about - what if he died himself? How incredibly selfish of her to think of Billy being taken from her, while he was stealing others away from the people who cared for them.

Angela drew back at the sound of Randy stirring. "You have to stop doing that."

"You kissed me, remember?"

She shushed him, the both of them watching as Randy blinked to. His hand still hanging on the rim of the plastic bowl they'd shook the popcorn into, he shifted to stand up and stretch but instead tipped the entire bowl, sending popcorn scattering everywhere. Thankfully, the maid Angela's Father had hired was slated to come tomorrow.

"What... what time is it?"

Angela glanced at the clock. "Past two."

"My Dad's gonna kick my ass." Randy sighed, kneeling down to gather as much popcorn back into the bowl as he could. Narrowing his eyes from the carpet, he surveyed Billy up and down. "What's he doing here?"

"I came by to visit Angela."

"At two in the morning?" Randy frowned. "Weren't you just under investigation by the police?"

Angela was quick to intervene. "Randy, I told you he's not the killer."

"How do we know you're not the killer, huh?" Billy took a step towards Randy. Angela held her breath. The same dark cloud that incited her fear of him crossed his face as he yanked Randy by the fabric of his striped polo. "Maybe your movie freaked mind lost it's reality button."

"You're absolutely right. If this were a scary movie, I'd be the prime suspect."

"That's right." He loosened his grip on Randy.

"Billy was just leaving."

He turned to Angela, his eyes still frozen over. "I'll see you, Ang."

Without any trace of emotion, he slunk back into the darkness of the foyer and shut the front door softly behind him. Disappointment overcame her, but she figured this was her punishment for caring for a psychopath. When Angela twisted back around, Randy's jaw was clenched, his back straight as a board.

"Randy, why are you looking at me like that?"

"I can't shake the picture of you and Billy fucking Loomis swapping spit."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Angela couldn't believe Randy had been pretending to be asleep just to stick his nose where it didn't belong. He was a clever bastard. "Um, do you want to call your Dad?"

Randy scoffed. "Jesus, he's such an asshole. What about Sid? What're you thinking?"

"What about Sidney? She hardly touches him."

"Ah, I see, so that gives you the go ahead to be Billy's little playmate."

"I really care about him, Randy." Angela insisted. "You know what it's like to care about a person whose with someone else."

"If Sidney showed up at my house in the middle of the night, I wouldn't suck her face off." Angela was doubtful of this, waiting for him to retrace. "It's purely incidental."

"I know you would."

"I just don't understand. Why Billy?"

"I don't know, Randy." She laughed a little at herself. "I really don't know... but promise me you'll keep this a secret."

He struggled, torn between refusing to hide their little love affair and accepting for the sake of Sidney. He couldn't bear to see the girl he'd pined after for years hurt by her creep of a boyfriend. Sighing, Randy reluctantly nodded his head once. This went against everything he stood for, but Angela was his friend. Deep down, he knew she'd do the same for him.

* * *

Saturday carried on comfortably, with Angela running errands around town during the day for her Father, like picking up groceries at the bustling little grocer's and picking up stamps from the post office in the morning. The entire time, she replayed last night's kiss over and over again in her mind. It was everything she'd imagined it to be, and more. She didn't return home until that afternoon, where a voicemail from Tatum waited on her bedroom answering machine.

A small party, at her place. Eight o'clock. Angela had better be there, Tatum demanded. Sighing, Angela busied herself with doing her makeup in the event she did attend the party. Even as she dusted eye shadow across her eyelids, this was doubtful. After last night, Angela was positive seeing Billy and Sidney together would push her buttons. That, and being in the same room as he and Randy was bound to be awkward.

Angela hadn't been spending as much time with Sidney and Tatum lately, and if she drifted too far, it'd be a little suspicious. So after sitting down to a dinner of macaroni and cheese and oven baked chicken with her Father, Angela slipped into a strappy knit bodysuit under a pair of acid wash jeans, pinning her hair up into a curled bun.

So after sitting down to a dinner of macaroni and cheese and oven baked chicken with her Father, Angela slipped into a strappy knit bodysuit beneath a pair of acid wash jeans, pinning her hair up into a curled half-bun. Brushing a hand gently across the soft petals of the roses Billy had given her, she headed out.

* * *

Making her way up the stairs of Tatum's porch and to the front door, Angela jabbed the doorbell with her pinky finger. After a moment, Stu flung the door open widely, a beer in one of his hands. Somewhere inside, a radio was playing loudly. Looking her up and down, Stu whistled, ushering her inside.

"Nice outfit, Angie."

She gave a drawn out roll of her eyes, breezing past him and into the living room where everyone was situated. It wasn't a large party by any means, but there was still a few people drifting around, laughing and swigging beer that Angela didn't immediately recognize. Randy was leaned against the dining room table, talking excitedly about something with one of his friends. At the sight of Angela, he waved her over.

"Didn't think you'd show tonight." He said smugly.

"Touche. What're you doing here?"

"I have nothing better to do."

They exchanged a glance. Thankfully, someone changed the track playing to a Beastie Boys tape. Mixed reactions ensured, with some scowling at the guy dancing away from the radio and others, like Stu, commending him with a cheer. Using this to her advantage, Angela promised Randy she'd swing by later and swiftly headed for where Tatum and Sidney were seated on the couch.

Before she could make it to her destination, Stu looped an arm around her, introducing her to a group of guys he was laughing with. "Hey, have you guys met Ang?"

"No." One of them grinned, smirking from behind his bottle of vodka. He was a shorter guy with long jet black hair and one dangling earring. "I sure know who she is though."

"Oh, really?"

"What do you say we get to know each other?" He suggested, the blonde dude next to him pressing his fingers up to his lip, suggesting a blunt.

"I'll pass." Angela said uneasily, plastering a fake smile on.

"I'll be back, man."

Stu announced to the others, steering her into the empty foyer, craning his neck to make sure no one was around. Satisfied, he released Angela and flopped down on the stairs. Offering her the beer, she eyed it apprehensively before taking it and gulping a good portion down. He looked a little surprised, but soon patted the carpeted stair beside him.

"You hear anything from lover boy yet?"

"Would you knock that off?" She giggled shortly, forfeiting the beer and joining him on the steps. "Yeah, last night."

"Last night, huh?"

"It wasn't anything serious." She blushed, knowing fully it could've turned into something far more serious. "Is he um, here? I didn't see his car."

"Nah, he'll be here soon."

"Should I go? I'm not looking forward to him and Sidney."

"It's all part of the plan, Angie."

Tipping the beer can towards her, he stood up and reclaimed his place in the center of the party. Figuring now was the time to approach the girls, Angela sashayed towards them. Sidney flashed her inviting smile, practically oozing innocence. Tatum folded her arms across her chest, sweeping the room.

"Hey, guys." Angela smiled.

"What the hell is Stu trying to do, introducing you to those scrubs?" Tatum jeered.

"Who knows." Sidney spoke up. "How have you been, Angela? I feel like we haven't hung out in ages."

"I know!" Angela thanked her pretentious San Francisco school clique for teaching her exactly how to utilize the phoniest voice. "I've been good, how about you? How're you holding up?"

"Alright." She shrugged, something lingering in her voice. "Have you seen Billy?"

Angela's stomach churned. She should be helping Sidney, bringing her mind to ease about her Mother's death. Instead, she was falling for her boyfriend. The inner workings of the human brain mystified her. Shaking her head, Angela patted down a curl.

"No, I haven't."

"I'm sure he's going to come." Tatum gave Sidney's arm a squeeze.

"I feel so... guilty."

"Don't. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Sidney?" Speak of the devil, more literal than not. Billy stood beside Angela, the distinct smell of his shampoo rousing Angela.

"Billy." A trace of a smile crossed Sidney's face, bridging the gap between them with a kiss. Angela turned away discreetly. "Where have you been?"

"My Dad needed my help with something... Can we talk, Sid?"

"Um, yeah. Of course."

Folding her hand into his palm, Angela watched them slink off. They were probably off to kiss and make up, tender words and warm kisses. Imaging Sidney in her place from the night before stung. All she could do was hope that Billy had his ulterior motives, and that he'd explain these to her sooner than later. For the time being, Angela wanted to return home.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Not sure if I'm going to keep this chapter or not... let me know what you guys think!

Warning: Mild violence

* * *

"We should all go shopping tomorrow." Tatum suggested, nodding to Angela.

Angela finished emptying a bag of Doritos into a bowl, pondering this. "Definitely. I need some new clothes."

"Ugh, me too." Tatum nodded, dragging a case of beer out of the fridge and setting it on the counter. "You sure things are cool with you at home and all?"

"Positive." She assured her, the bag crinkling as she folded it and stuffed it back into the cupboard.

Somehow, Angela had allowed Tatum to persuade her into hanging around just until Stu got back from smoking with his sleazy friends. He'd informed Angela that he didn't get the chance to spark up often with Billy calling the shots. He was expected to take orders and stick to the plan. Besides, staying a bit longer was a good move on Angela's part. Heading out right after Billy's appearance could potentially pose a threat.

Though the prospect of spending a day shopping with them wasn't quite ideal, it'd be better for her image than laying around at home waiting for Billy to come creeping in her window again. Positioning herself up against the counter as Randy breezed in and grabbed a handful of Doritos, Angela watched him flick one at her.

"Well, Tatum, I wish I could say this has been fun."

"Whatever." She pressed her lips together. "I'll swing by with those movies tomorrow."

"Don't forget. It's a five dollar late charge."

Angela raised an eyebrow. "After 24 hours."

"Whose side are you on, Ang?"

"I'll see you tomorrow." She rolled her eyes at him, laughing.

As Randy left, Stu flounced in, bumping into his shoulder with a cheeky gin. Randy muttered something on his way out. Choosing to ignore it, Tatum looped her arm in Stu's and began a tirade of how awful his clothes reeked of pot. If Dewey got off patrol and smelled it, he'd flip, she promised him that.

"Well, I better get outta here." Angela jingled her car keys.

Stu tilted his head pointedly. "Geez, why so early?"

"Just really tired, that's all."

* * *

Angela nearly raced home. It wasn't that Angela didn't like Tatum. In fact, Tatum was promiscuous and superficial at first impression, but she had a good, caring heart. She was a good friend. As was Sidney, honestly. It was simply that Angela felt too irritated to sit around and mingle with a loved up Billy and Sidney.

Turning the wheel and bringing her car to a stop in the driveway, she had every intention of wiping her makeup off, rinsing her face and crawling into bed, enjoying a late night sitcom. Debating her sitcom options, she stuck the key into the door. Strangely enough, unlocking the front door lead her into a brightly lit foyer. Her Father should've been fast asleep by now.

"Angela?" His voice bellowed out. Tracing it to the dining room, she walked in and immediately wished she'd stayed at the party. "Angela, sit down a moment, please."

"David." She exclaimed, steadying herself by gripping the table.

He rose from his seat, all six feet and two inches of him towering over her. Offering her a pearly smile, his booming voice greeting her. "Angela."

"What... what're you doing here?"

"You haven't returned my calls for two months. I thought I had the wrong number, but..."

"So you came to my house?" Her voice was wobbly.

"Please, sit, pumpkin." Rich Edwards urged her.

Collapsing into the chair that faced the center of the table, her eyes never left David. David Thoreau was her boyfriend of four months. It would've been six, but she didn't count the two months since she'd been in Woodsboro. He was the crown jewel of her old school. Acclaimed quarterback, cherished by everyone. There had been time that Angela had been crazy about him.

That time was over. She was hopelessly falling for a man who was quite possibly the opposite of hulking David. He was nothing like her mysterious, brooding Billy. David was outgoing and jaunty; always willing to lend a hand to a complete stranger. The ideal American boy personified. His sweeping blonde hair and crystal blue eyes proved her point.

The gold watch on Rich's wrist glared below the chandelier as he lifted a glass of wine to his lips. Shifting uncomfortably, he set the glass down carefully. "David is going to be staying in the guest room tonight. He's come all this way to speak to you."

"Daddy, I-"

"I'm going to leave you two to your... discussion."

Angela defenselessly watched him leave the room. Shifting her gaze back to David, sitting where she'd been lost in Billy's arms just the night before, a knot formed in the deep pit of her stomach.

"What are you doing here?"

"I miss you, Angela."

"You... do?" She seemingly choked on her own voice.

"Yes. Of course."

"David, I didn't contact you for a reason. Did you ever get that through your skull?"

Sending the chair backwards, Angela trailed up the stairwell. David followed close behind at her heels. She moved to shut her bedroom door, but his strength overpowered her's by great numbers. Blatantly ignoring his droning, she slid onto the cushion of the vanity bench and started at unpinning the curls from her hair.

"What happened to you?"

She jerked to face him, shaking her curls out. "People change."

"Come on. We used to be crazy about each other."

"It's called infatuation."

"I didn't come here for infatuation. I love you, Angela."

Stacking the bobby pins in a neat little pile, her fingers froze. David loved her. Sure, they'd played out a sweet little relationship for a brief while, but it was nothing truly significant. She'd attended his games, and they'd sloppily kiss for a few minutes in his '75 Trans Am afterwards. It was child's play compared to the way Billy sent her emotions into a frenzy.

Gingerly taking a place on the windowsill, she examined his woeful eyes. "I'm sorry. I just don't feel the same way."

"I got accepted to University of Florida. Full football scholarship."

"Congratulations." Angela's usually silvery voice was aloof, sincerity lost. "I bet your parents are thrilled."

"Yeah, my Dad is." He admitted, toying with his car keys. "Look, I couldn't go without telling you how I feel."

"I should've told you sooner, David." She sighed. "I'm so sorry."

He leaned forward from where he was perched on the side of her bed, the collar of the plaid shirt under her black cashmere sweater stiffening. "Something's different with you."

"Different, how?"

"You seem..." He let out a small chuckle. "I don't know, just different."

"Well, my Mother did abandon me."

"I didn't mean that." He immediately said, apologizing. "I heard about the murders."

She strained to disclose her surprise. A distant sound caught her attention from outside, the wind rippling through the trees. "Crazy for something like that to happen here, huh?"

"Sure is. It's all over the news at home." He softened his tone. "Is that what's bothering you?"

"No."

He dropped it. "Stay safe out here."

"I will."

David closed the distance between them by joining her on the window sill. He smelled of pricey cologne that made her nostrils sting. Staring out at the quiet landscape, he supposed she was right. People did change. Shifting his gaze back to Angela, a melancholy grin playing at his charming features, his lips grazed her cheek. It was a sweet gesture, but she was immune to it.

"I hope you find what you're looking for."

"You, too." Angela's fingers found his, giving his strong hand a squeeze. "You're going to do great."

"Thanks, Ang." She watched him towering in the dooryway, hovering around for a minute. "Is there someone else?"

She composed her words carefully, trying her best to remain sensitive of his feelings. "Yeah. There is. I'm... sorry."

"He's a lucky man."

* * *

Disheartened by his rejection, David barely got any sleep in the cold guest suite of his ex-girlfriend's new home. Before dawn could break, he tossed his burly duffel bag into the back of his bright blue '75 Trans Am. Parked outside her lush front lawn, he gave it one last look over before climbing in and settling into the cool leather seats. It was a four hour drive back to San Francisco, and he'd better get going if he wanted to beat traffic.

The engine roaring to life, David careened out of there. His tires hitting the back roads that would drop him off on the freeway, he twisted the radio dial up in attempt to keep awake. Half an hour or so passed without passing a single vehicle besides his own, until he spotted a parked car in the middle of the road ahead.

Blinking his eyes, he slowed to a stop, turning down the fuzzy Oldies station on the radio as he approached the brand new green Camaro. A tall, lean guy with short blonde hair jumped from the driver side, waving his arms over his head frantically. Fumbling for the door handle, the car suddenly locked on him. The tall guy hurried over to his driver side window, panting. Tugging at the door handle, David glanced up to see his head shaking.

"You really should not have come here."

David scanned the area for any signs of danger. "Are you alright?"

"What a stand-up guy."

Before David had a chance to question him, he felt someone's hands squeeze the sides of his head from his backseat, slamming his forehead directly into the grip of the steering wheel. Shouting out in a whirlwind of shock, pain and confusion, David felt his skull crash into the wheel again. Seeing stars, he dizzily attempted to fight back, his arms flailing, trying to get one good hit in. That's all he needed.

Almost able to twist around, The man beside his car watched curiously. Why wasn't he helping? Shouting, David grappled for help. The same adrenaline that fueled him on the football field was in full swing. "Help!"

"No can do, pal."

Punching the window's glass out, it sent glass shards scattering onto the pavement. Blundering about for the door handle on the other side, he managed to wrap a finger around it before his head struck the metal center of the wheel again. This time, it was much more violent, and a loud crack rang out upon impact. Paralyzed, a hot liquid dribbled down his face. White hot pain that shot down in daggers from the top of his scalp tortured him.

Groaning in agony; the person in his backseat yanked his head back. Managing to pry open his car door, he caught glimpse of the Trans Am logo swamped in his own blood. The man who'd flagged him down danced over the glass, slamming the door tightly. Hardly able to open his mouth, he croaked out a name. Angela. He craved her so bad right now, to hold him and make this all better.

Sputtering her name once more pathetically, his killer bashed his head into the center of the wheel again, the horn cutting through the silence of the night. He could no longer see, but his hearing picked up the two voices speaking something to one another. If they'd struck up conversation prior to the latest blow, he may have been able to work to identify words.

The pressure returned, and one final, forceful crack into the cool metal was all it took to send every last inch of life out of his body. The bloodied glass glinting on the road, the radio cutting off.

* * *

The following morning, Angela shrugged into her silk blue robe, and peeked into the guest room. The bed was rumbled, thin wrinkles sprawling across the linen. No sign of David. Breathing a sigh of relief, she pulled the comforter up and over the pillows. Practically all last night, she'd been dreading facing his sad eyes in the morning. Trudging down the stairs, she prepared to chew into her Father for even letting him in.

Unable to score a chance of that, the police were stuffily huddled around the loveseat, where her Father sat with his hands tightly clasped. At the creak of her footsteps, everyone in the room adjusted so that they were facing her. Offering them a weary smile, her mind was set ablaze. This was the moment she'd fretted over. Somehow, Billy and Stu had been caught.

"Miss Edwards?" Dewey was one of the officers present, rushing to her side.

"Y-yes?"

"I have some bad news."

"Bad news?" She locked eyes with her Father. Something was surely amiss. "What's going on?"

"David Thoreau crashed his car early this morning. I'm sorry, Angela, but he's dead."

"Dead?"

One of the other officers cleared his throat. "Yes. Unfortunately, we cannot disclose any further official information."

"I can't believe it."

She breathed, grasping Dewey's arm just in time. Taken back from this at first, he wobbled a bit. She ached to let out a hefty sigh of relief. Of course she had her remorse for David, he had a grand entire future sprawled out ahead of him, but she wasn't about to be thrown into a cold prison cell. Being an undiscovered accessory to murder was reason enough to be relieved.

"His radio had faulty wires, and the whole car burst into flames on impact." Dewey mumbled. "I am real sorry."

"Dewey." The chief snapped, reprimanding him.

"Sorry, sir."

"Is this connected to the murders, by any chance?" Rich piped up, narrowing his eyes.

The chief uneasily shook his head. "We don't know. We have no reason to believe so, but... we've already said too much."

Angela saw their mouths moving, but couldn't seem to process this. David was dead. He was such a good guy. He wasn't pretentious, he came from a well off family. Just because she didn't have a crush on him anymore didn't mean she wished for him dead. Even worse, it was because of his feelings for her, drawing him up here, that he'd died.

Yet it wasn't shocking he'd wrecked that damned Trans Am. He drove entirely fast back in the city, whooping and peeling wheels every chance he got with his bonehead friends. She wondered if his parents had been notified yet. Looking up to ask this question, a disturbing thought rendered her mute.

Angela doubted he'd be in the mood to race last night.


End file.
